


Smoking Guns and Little Ones

by Absolutely_Corrupted



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Childcare, Established Relationship, F/M, Family Drama, Gen, Secret Identities, metahuman rights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-10-18 17:53:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17585537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Absolutely_Corrupted/pseuds/Absolutely_Corrupted
Summary: The summer she turns twenty-two, Regina Locke feels on top of the world. She’s out of school, gainfully employed, and dating someone she actually likes to spend time with.The feeling doesn’t last.She quickly learns that working full-time as the primary caretaker of an infant is a lot harder than anything she’s ever done. Add to that the struggle of maintaining her privacy while living and working with public figures, as well as the growing suspicion that her boyfriend is hiding something from her…Well, she’s starting to wonder if she’s in over her head....After his stint as an Outlaw, Jason Todd is back in Gotham – this time for good. He’s following Bruce’s rules and while his relationship with the Bats isn’t exactly cordial, things are better than he could have hoped for. He’s got an apartment, a day job, and a girlfriend he honestly cares about. Things are looking up.Then his girlfriend goes and gets herself hired by his former father figure.Suddenly, he’s running himself ragged trying to keep two very separate lives from colliding. All the while dealing with strange overtures from Bruce and rising tensions in the criminal underworld.





	1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

In a black sedan traveling west out of Gotham proper, a young woman sat with her legs crossed and her gaze focused on the passing scenery. Her driver, a cheerful young man with a thick beard and an even thicker accent, was singing along quietly with a classic rock station as they drove farther into the wealthy neighborhood on the city’s outskirts.

As one sprawling estate after another came into view, Reggie began to mentally review everything she wanted to present. She’d edited her resume extensively from the last time she’d needed to apply for a job, but experience on paper mattered little when it came to these sorts of interviews. More than experience, parents wanted nannies who could conduct themselves well, as their children would be taking their cues from them.

“Looks like we’re almost there,” the driver announced. “The address should be coming up on our right.”

Shooting a smile his way, Reggie turned to watch the Wayne estate come into view. At first, due to the sheer expanse of the property, she didn’t realize what she was seeing. However, a glimpse of the fence through the foliage let her know that the grounds were big enough that the manor was not immediately visible from the road.

 _Good grief!_ She’d often heard people refer to Bruce Wayne as obscenely rich, but this was the first time the words seemed appropriate. _There is no way_ anyone _needs this much extra space!_

The car rolled to a gentle stop. “Here it is. Good luck with your interview!”

“Thanks.” She scooped up her purse and opened the door. “Have a good day.”

Upon exiting the uber and nodding farewell, Reggie immediately straightened her clothes. Despite the care she’d taken with choosing her outfit, she felt woefully plain now that she was standing in front of her potential employer’s enormous wrought-iron gate.

 _I don’t belong here._ The thought was insidious, creeping into her mind and tearing down all her carefully crafted reasons for being there. She had the sudden urge to flee – to hop back in the car and head straight home.

Fortunately, her driver had already pulled away, leaving her with no choice but to move forward. She pressed the intercom and did her very best to school her expression into professional disinterest. The screen remained blank, but the speaker crackled to life. “Wayne residence, Alfred Pennyworth speaking.”

“Hello Mr. Pennyworth,” she smiled briefly, making sure not to show too many teeth to the tiny camera. “My name is Regina Locke. I’m here to interview as a potential nanny.”

“Of course, Miss Locke. I’ll be around with the car in a moment.”

“Thank you.” The light indicating the connection shut off, leaving her to stand awkwardly beside the gate in three inch heels. She was surprised the drive was long enough to warrant a car, but maybe it was just a way to control what the guests were exposed to and avoid leaving them on their own. After all, if she were one of the richest individuals in the world, she would be suspicious of strangers too.

After an excruciating three-minute wait, Reggie spotted a Rolls Royce as it ambled along the curving drive. The gates swung open seemingly of their own accord just as the car came to a complete stop. A thin, well-dressed man who looked to be somewhere in his late fifties got out and opened the rear door. She hurried forward as quickly as she could while maintaining a casual air and gave a quiet ‘thank you’ as she climbed in.

“You’re quite welcome, Miss Locke,” he replied.

Together, the two sat in polite silence as the British man circled back around and slowly approached the manor. The quiet was oppressive. In the spirit of breaking it, Reggie wanted to ask the man what it was like to work for Bruce Wayne… then again, she didn’t want to risk offending him on the off chance he’d put in a bad word with his boss.

Luckily, the silence was broken soon after the thought crossed her mind. “Here we are, Miss Locke,” said Pennyworth. He’d just pulled the car into a large garage off the side of the manor. “Wait just a moment and I’ll get your door.” And like a complete gentleman, he did so, offering his hand as an aid.

She took it without protest – it wasn’t always easy to climb out of a car gracefully while wearing heels and a dress. “Thank you,” she said again, feeling like a parrot.

“It’s no trouble,” he demurred. “Now, let’s head inside, shall we?” He gestured her forward to a door that presumably led from the garage into the manor itself. “You’re a bit early, so I hope you don’t mind waiting in the meantime.”

“Not at all,” said Reggie quickly. “I hope I haven’t inconvenienced you in any way.” It was just her luck that in her eagerness to avoid being late, she’d gone and arrived too early!

“It’s quite all right,” Pennyworth told her patiently, perhaps seeing the badly concealed anxiety on her face. “I’ll just set you up with something to drink in the meantime. Would you prefer coffee or tea?”

“Tea would be great, thank you.” She hesitated, then asked, “Do you happen to have earl grey?” The smell of bergamot would do wonders to calm her nerves. “If not, it’s no trouble. I’m fond of most teas.”

“Indeed I do,” he said. He opened one of the doors in the hallway they’d been walking along. “Please, take a seat wherever you like and I’ll return with your tea.”

“Thanks.” Reggie walked in and looked around for someplace to sit as the door clicked shut behind her. The room was spacious and decorated with the same sorts of fixtures as the grandiose hallway she’d just walked through. Landscapes hung on the walls alongside ornate timepieces and delicate candle sconces. There were bookshelves against the walls here and there, each one of them next to a neat little arrangement of armchairs and sofas.

Now, if only she could find a seat…

After a moment’s deliberation, she decided the most sensible place for her to sit would likely be one of the two leather couches at the center of the room. Not only were they facing one another across a wooden coffee table and therefore a good place for her eventual interview, they were firm enough that she wouldn’t have to worry about sinking into them like an idiot.

Sitting down gingerly and placing her purse in her lap, Reggie closed her eyes and consciously slowed her breathing. It wasn’t quite meditation, but it would do in a pinch. Once her heartrate slowed and she no longer felt at risk of breaking into a cold sweat, she opened her eyes-

-Only to blink in surprise when she found Pennyworth placing a tea tray on the coffee table before her. “Oh,” she said weakly. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s quite all right, Miss.” He didn’t smile overtly, but there was definitely a twinkle in his eyes. “Being quiet and unobtrusive is something of a specialty of mine.” He finished arranging the tray and then poured from a lovely white and blue teapot into a matching cup. “Here you are.”

Reggie grasped the cup in both hands and took a small sip. She sighed happily. “This is great,” she told him honestly. “Thank you for going to the trouble.”

“You’re welcome.” He checked his wrist for the time. “It’ll be just a few minutes more,” he said kindly. “Please feel free to peruse the bookshelves while you wait.” He gave her a brisk nod and retreated, closing her once more into the quiet room.

Uncomfortable with the idea of going through someone else’s books – especially when they were most likely _expensive_ books – she remained seated. Her tea kept her occupied for a few minutes, but eventually she settled back into the near-meditative state she’d achieved before. This time, however, she kept her eyes heavily-lidded rather than closed.

It would be embarrassing to be caught off guard twice in a row.

Some time later (eight minutes, according to the clock on the wall across from her), Reggie heard the door swing open. Bruce Wayne, in all his glory, walked into the room with a polite smile on his face. He was wearing dress pants and a lavender sweater, looking much broader through the shoulders than she’d expected.

Reggie set her tea cup down and stood to greet him with her hand out. “Hello, Mr. Wayne.” Luckily, her voice came out clear and strong. “I’m Regina Locke. It’s nice to meet you.”

He reached out and returned the handshake, gripping more tightly than most men did when confronted with a petite woman.

“Good to meet you, Regina. And please, call me Bruce.” His manner was surprisingly sedate – nothing like the larger-than-life personality she’d seen on TV.

Interesting, but irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. Dismissing her initial surprise, she sat back down and waited patiently as he took the seat across from her.

“So,” he cleared his throat and leaned forward. “Let’s get right to it. What made you decide to apply for this position?”

Reggie crossed her legs below the knee and clasped her hands so she wouldn’t fidget. “Well, I graduated from Gotham U this past spring and after considering my options, I decided to work for a few years before pursuing graduate school.” More like she needed to work if she were to have any hope of paying for more school. “Since I’ve worked as a nanny in the past and enjoyed the experience, I thought it was best to stick with what I knew.” She nodded in Bruce’s direction. “When you contacted the company I work with, they took the requirements you’d specified and sent emails to all the girls who fit them – including me.

“Anyway,” she went on, “I looked it over to see if the details of the assignment matched my own criteria.” She shrugged delicately. “They did, so I made the decision to throw my hat into the ring.”

“And what were your criteria?” Bruce asked, eyes sharp.

“I was looking for an assignment where a room would be provided so I wouldn’t have to commute,” she told him. “I also made sure to only consider full-time employment, since I don’t relish the thought of a second job.”

He waited, but she had nothing else to add. It was pure luck that the man in front of her had contacted the company she was associated with. “I see,” he said eventually. “Would you mind going over your work experience with me? I know you sent your resume as well as your references, but I’d like to clarify a few things…”

And so it began. Reggie was grilled on everything from her grades to her political beliefs, though she was resolutely noncommittal on the latter. She didn’t think it was an appropriate question and tried to defend that belief, politely of course.

“I understand delving into my morals, but is it really necessary to know every facet of my political views?” she asked carefully. “I’d really prefer to keep my work and my voting history separate – otherwise I’d have gone into something more partisan than child-care.”

He raised a brow at her pointed comment, saying, “I often find that a person’s political views reflect their character.”

“Well, in my experience, political views are more reflective a person’s upbringing and economic status.” Reggie kept a placid expression fixed firmly to her face.

“…That’s not an argument I would expect from you, considering your father’s beliefs.”

It was difficult not to purse her lips in displeasure, but she managed. “I am my own person,” she pointed out mildly. “Is it so surprising that I’ve come to different conclusions than one of my parents?”

“No,” he said after a moment, carefully looking her over. “It’s not so surprising.”

They moved on to other subjects after that.

By the end of the hour-long interview, she was sure he’d decided she wasn’t right for the job. There was no way she’d answered everything to his liking.

“I think that’s it for today,” he announced at last. “I’ll have Alfred contact you about a follow-up interview.”

“Thank you for your consideration,” she replied.

They shook hands once more and then in seemingly no time at all Pennyworth was leading her out. “I took the liberty of calling a cab for you,” he told her. “Seeing as you would have had to wait if you’d called once your interview was finished.”

“Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth. That was very thoughtful of you.” Reggie let him get the cab door for her and settled in, bidding the man a polite farewell which he returned. Her smile faded once the cab reached the road, but she didn’t let disappointment take root. She hadn’t expected to get the job in the first place. She was young and relatively inexperienced – neither of which were ideal when parents looked for a caretaker for their babies. The fact that Bruce Wayne had at least pretended she would be considered for a follow-up interview meant she hadn’t botched things up too badly. She could take pride in the fact that she probably wasn’t the _worst_ interviewee they’d received.

Besides, it wasn’t like she hadn’t taken anything away from the interview. She’d learned a few things about Gotham’s most famous bachelor and had gotten a glimpse at shrewd business man behind the shallow façade.

 _It’s no wonder Wayne Enterprises has become such an international power,_ she thought admiringly, _Bruce Wayne is a wolf in sheep’s clothing!_


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Three days after her interview, Reggie received a call from Pennyworth inviting her back to the manor for another interview. Surprised but pleased by this turn of events, she agreed to return. Though this time she made sure to arrive precisely ten minutes early, rather than twenty.

Upon her arrival, instead of leading her to the room from the first interview, the butler led her to what appeared to be a toy room. Inside, Bruce Wayne was reading a newspaper with a baby on his chest.

“Hello again Regina,” he greeted quietly. “This is Helena.”

“Hi there,” she replied, grinning at the suddenly curious girl on his chest. “She’s a tiny little thing isn’t she?” According to what Bruce had said last time, Helena was 14 weeks old. She could clearly lift her head up and track movement, but no one would mistake her for any older.

Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but his daughter beat him to it – letting out a string of excited babble and waving a chubby arm in Reggie’s direction. “I know,” Reggie commiserated aloud. “I’m new and strange aren’t I?” This was apparently hilarious, because the little girl burst into high-pitched giggles.

Reggie looked at Bruce, who was holding Helena steady and looking bemused. She grinned. “They change so quickly don’t they? Teary one minute, sleepy the next, then delighted when you least expect it.”

“I wouldn’t know,” he admitted. “I’ve only had custody of Helena for a week or so. She lived with her mother before that.”

_No wonder I was invited for an interview so quickly._ “Well, you’ll see it soon enough,” she told him. “Babies are mercurial little things,” she wagged a finger at the baby, “Isn’t that right, Helena?” More cackling ensued.

Smiling and feeling much more confident now that luck was on her side, Reggie sat down in the chair across from Bruce. Like before, he immediately got to business and they verbally went over the mock schedule she’d created. She explained how she would adjust things according to Helena’s needs and talked about some of the learning games she wanted to try out.

“There would be no pressure associated with the games,” she assured him. “But I’ve been reading case studies about early childhood development and, unsurprisingly, the more you talk _to_ a child and actively engage their attention, the easier a time they’ll have in processing information as they get older.”

Her potential employer was listening attentively but not replying, so Reggie continued to natter on about the research she’d been doing. “I’ve read about how presenting words in a sentence is actually easier for an infant than separating them out. Supposedly, having context makes it much easier to assign meaning and internalize it.”

“Oh! I also found multiple studies that indicated babies preferred ‘motherese,’” she made air quotes with her fingers. “The higher pitch and exaggerated intonation that many women adopt when speaking to babies actively keeps their attention better!” She then added in an aside, “Though it may be due to an association with the manner of speaking the child’s mother engages in most often – it’s hard to say for sure.”

Bruce continued to keep his silence, so she kept going, speaking progressively faster and with more energy as she went. She’d always been the sort of person who got excited about sharing the things she learned and found interesting. So much so that her mother absolutely refused to talk about her classes when they spoke on the phone. The older woman often claimed that if she wanted to know such things, she would go back to school herself.

Fortunately, the man across from her seemed amused rather than irritated. When she noticed, she paused, ceasing the grand hand-gestures she’d only just realized she’d been making. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I got a little carried away.” More like a _lot._ “It’s a subject I’m pretty passionate about.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said good-naturedly. “I like that you’re passionate. It says good things about how seriously you would take your job.”

She smiled tentatively at the compliment, allowing her grin to stretch wider when Helena punctuated it with a loud “Bwhaaa!” The baby had been content to sit and listen for the entirety of the time Reggie had been speaking, but she was seemingly done with not being the center of attention.

“May I hold her?” Reggie asked, still feeling a bit giddy.

“Of course.” Bruce shifted his arms to support Helena more fully – looking much more comfortable than he should for someone who’d only had a baby for a single week. He walked over to Reggie and they cautiously transferred her between them.

“Hello, Helena.” A pair of wide blue eyes met her own and Reggie thanked her lucky stars that the little girl wasn’t old enough for separation anxiety. By the time babies reached six months, they were much less likely to respond positively to strangers. Little Helena was too young for that thankfully, so her good mood persisted despite her new seat.

In between cooing at the baby girl and gently bouncing her in her lap, Reggie spent another fifteen minutes discussing the details of the job and what would be expected of her in addition to the standard child-rearing. At the end of it, she passed Helena back to Bruce and followed Alfred out of the mansion in a much better mood than she’d been in three days before.

This time, she actually felt like she had a chance at the job, which would be… god, it would be the best thing to happen to her in ages. She’d get to stay in Gotham with her boyfriend _and_ she’d be able to save up for grad school at the same time.

As soon as she was in the cab, she dialed a number she knew by heart. It rang a few times before a rough, sleep-addled voice answered. “…Hello?”

“Wake-up, Jase,” she told him excitedly. “I’m taking you out to dinner!”

She heard the muffled sound of him throwing off his sheets. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion,” she insisted. “I’m just in a good mood. Now hurry up and get dressed, I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“Better make it thirty,” he said. “I really need to shower.”

“Okay, I’ll stop and get coffee on my way.” She held the phone to her shoulder to give the cab driver the new directions. “Anyway,” she returned to her cell. “I’ll be there soon – don’t forget to wear that cologne I bought you for Christmas!” Reggie added belatedly.

“Yeah, yeah,” she could practically here him rolling his eyes. “I got it. Standard date rules apply. Anything else while you’re still feeling bossy?”

“Oh hush – I’m just excited. Now hop to! Clock’s ticking!”

“Yes ma’am,” he said mockingly. Then, in a more sincere tone, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Me either,” she choked out – feeling as embarrassed as she always did when they got close to talking about feelings. “Gotta get that coffee, now. Bye Jase!”

“Bye babe, see you in a few.” Damn it, he sounded amused. The jerk.

.

.

.

Twenty-five minutes later, Reggie was trying to figure out how to knock without dropping the scalding hot coffees in her hands. _Elbow maybe?_ Just as she was about to try, the door swung open.

“You have the best timing,” she announced gratefully, shoving one of the cups into his hands and stepping past him into the apartment. She sat down on one of the barstools and spun around to face her boyfriend of six months. “You know that job opportunity? The one I said would make it possible for me to stay in Gotham now that I’m out of school?”

“Yeah?”

“I think they might actually be considering hiring me!” It felt good to share her excitement with someone else. Especially someone who was just as invested in her staying in Gotham as she was.

“No way! That’s great, Reg!” He leaned down to kiss her as he took the stool next to her.

“Right? Of course, I really shouldn’t get my hopes up yet. Nothing is set in stone.”

“Oh come on,” Jason rolled his eyes. “You’ve got more CPR and first aid certifications than I can count and a college degree. If anything, you’re over-qualified for the job.”

She rolled her eyes. “It’s not as if an economics degree is useful when it comes to raising a child.” She took a deep breath. “Still, I hope I get it. My lease is up in August and if I don’t find a job before then, I’ll have to leave the city.” She groaned and leaned into Jason’s arm. “I don’t want to move back in with my parents, Jay. I wouldn’t last a week!”

“…You know,” he said in a deliberately casual tone, “If worst comes to worst, you could always move in with me.” She looked up at him in surprise. “Only if you wanted to,” he added self-consciously.

“Oh Jason, that’s incredibly sweet of you.” She bit her lip, choosing her next words carefully. Just because the emotional stuff didn’t come naturally to her didn’t mean she couldn’t _try._ “But I don’t want to take advantage of you. I need to make my own way. If we move in together, I want it to be because we both want to – not because I can’t afford to stay anyplace else.”

Jason nodded a little stiffly, clearly offended despite the care she’d taken to avoid that reaction.

“Anyway,” she said brightly, eager to move past the awkwardness. “The follow-up interview went really well and I want to celebrate. Get a shirt on and we can go!” She let her expression turn playful. “Unless, of course, you were trying to convince me of a night in.” Her hand trailed down the center of his chest.

He loosened up a little, seemingly discarding his hurt feelings. “Well, hell – why can’t we do both?” His voice went raspy in the way he knew she liked.

“Good idea,” she said a little breathlessly. _Woah girl, priorities._ She reigned it in. “But dinner first. If we’re going out, I’d like to go while my hair is still styled.”

“Never mind,” he backtracked quickly. “I’ll take the night in.”

She laughed. “Nope! Too late!” She drained the rest of her coffee and stood up. “Want me to grab your clothes?”

“ _No!”_ He said hastily. She stared at him in confusion at the vehemence in his tone. “Sorry,” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s just, my room is a bit of a mess at the moment.”

“Really?” Reggie asked, eyes wide. “No wonder you’re embarrassed – you’re usually neater than I am!” And that was saying something, considering how anal she could be when it came to cleanliness and order.

“Yeah,” he laughed a bit. “I was so tired this morning when I got in that I didn’t have the energy. I’ll fix it when we get back. In the meantime, _I’ll_ get my clothes.”

She sat back down. “Sure thing, Jase.”

.

.

.

As soon as his bedroom door shut behind him, Jason slumped against it. That had been way too close. Had he not remembered the state of his room in time, Reggie would have seen the bloody sheets and the red helmet and come to the _right_ conclusion.

He was nowhere near ready to tell her about his night life. He’d probably never be ready, come to think of it. Things with Reggie were simple, easy even. Revealing himself would ruin everything. She was innocent in a way he’d never been. Her reaction to learning he was a murderer would be worse than Bruce’s!

…Okay, maybe not _worse,_ he corrected mentally, but it certainly wouldn’t be positive.

Sighing at his own stupidity, Jason quickly gathered up the incriminating evidence and stashed it in the hidden compartment in his closet. Then, with haste, he threw on a grey t-shirt and his daytime leather jacket. He took a deep breath, then walked out of the room with a smile on his face.

“You ready to go?”

Reggie looked up from her phone and gave him a once over. Judging by the way her eyes lingered, she approved. “Yeah, let’s go.” She walked to the shelf by his front door, picked up the motorcycle helmet he’d gotten her after three months of dating, and tucked it under her arm. “I’m really glad I decided to wear pants today,” she told him seriously.

He chuckled. “Yeah, I can imagine.” The last time and only time she’d worn a dress while riding with him, she’d forced him to stop so she could dismount. Then, with Jason idling alongside her, she’d walked all the way back to his apartment. She wasn’t keen on flashing Gotham’s pedestrians.

Picking up his own helmet, Jason led her down the stairs and onto the street. They climbed onto his bike and he started the engine. “Where to babe?”

Reggie didn’t need any time to decide. “Italian.”

“Sounds good to me.” Making sure her grip was tight around his waist, Jason pulled off into traffic with the ease of long practice. It was half-past six, so rush hour was at its peak. To bypass the worst of it, he took shameless advantage of his bike’s size and his own exceptional driving skill. It worked beautifully; less than fifteen minutes later, they were parked along a busy commercial street.

He took his helmet off and laughed when Reggie tried and failed to do the same. “Is it stuck?”

“No,” she huffed. “I just don’t want to mess up my hair!” Still chuckling, he helped her out, carefully avoiding the intricate knot at the base of her skull. “Thanks, Jase.”

“No problem, babe.” He put his hand on the small of her back and directed her forward. “Now let’s hope we don’t have to wait for too long to get a table.”

She turned around with a haughty expression on her face. “Already thought of that,” she told him smugly. “I called and made a reservation before I got to your place. Unlike _somebody,_ I think ahead!”

He held up his hands in defeat. “Alright. I concede to your superior planning skills. No need to rub it in my face.”

“Dork,” she declared fondly. “Now come on, we don’t want to be late or they’ll give it to someone else.” That said, she took his hand and dragged him forward. Since she was leading the way, she got to the door first and held it open.

“And here I thought chivalry was dead,” Jason joked.

“Shut up, Jase,” she groaned. “Nobody but you thinks you’re funny.”

He poked her cheek. “That smile says otherwise.”

“I’m not smiling,” she insisted. “This is a face I like to call: my-boyfriend-is-being-a-dork.”

“Odd,” he mused aloud, “It looks an awful lot like the face you make when you want to laugh…”

She huffed in false offense and elbowed past him to talk to the hostess. By the time he caught up, the gangly teenager had picked up two menus and was ready to lead them to their table. “Shelley is waitressing tonight,” Reggie whispered conspiratorially. “If you play your cards right, we can probably convince her to give us dessert on the house.”

“I see how it is,” he shook his head ruefully as they took their seats. “I’m just a means to an end for you, aren’t I?”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t butter her up anyway.” She wagged a finger at him. “I know you Jason. The world will end before you pass up free food.”

“It’s free for me either way,” he reminded her. “You’re paying.”

“Oh yeah,” Reggie mumbled. She pouted for a moment at being outmaneuvered before deciding to play dirty. She scooted closer to him in the booth, sidling up against his arm and looking up at him through her lashes. She licked her lips and spoke in a soft voice, “…You want to help me save money, don’t you?”

He snickered. “You had me until you started talking about money. Better luck next time, babe.”

“Ugh,” she put her face in her hands. “I give up.”

“And what is it you’re giving up on?” A new voice broke in curiously.

“Shelley!” Reggie exclaimed, dropping her hands and grinning broadly. “Tell Jason it’s his duty as my boyfriend to give in to my feminine wiles.”

The older women shook her head. “Honey, if he’s not giving in – you’re not doing it right.”

Reggie slumped dramatically. “Always so harsh.”

Shelley laughed. “Come on you two – what can I get you to drink?”

“I’ll have the Riesling from last time, the 2014 one,” Reggie told her.

Their waitress nodded. “And you, hotstuff?”

“Just water, thanks.” He was going out tonight, so alcohol was off-limits.

Shelley disappeared to get their drinks and Jason relaxed into his seat, throwing an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders.

Life was good.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

Jason woke up to the smell of cinnamon. Groaning (he’d taken a punch to the kidney the night before), he rolled over to look through his open bedroom door.

“Oi!” he called. “What are you doing to my kitchen, woman?”

Reggie leaned over the bar counter so she could see him. “I’ll clean it up!”

“You say that now,” he said, shifting upright and running his hand through his hair. “But I distinctly remember the last time you baked.”

“I had class!” she protested. “Otherwise I would have gotten to it.” She disappeared from view for a second and then reappeared with a plate. “Besides, are you really going to say no to a cinnamon bun?” She walked into his bedroom and sat down, waving the plate in his face. “I even held off on the icing this time!” She wrinkled her nose. “Not that I understand why you think it’s better this way.”

“Not everyone likes things tooth-rottingly sweet,” he insisted. “Now get back to the kitchen – I’m not eating on my nice clean sheets!”

She rolled her eyes, but stood back up. “You sound like my mother.”

“Like you’re not just as fussy about your own apartment,” he shot back. “And give me a hand before you go; I’m sore.”

Obligingly, she grasped his wrist in her free hand and tugged. She wasn’t strong enough to really move him, but Jason played along, shifting to his feet and stretching. “Oh, wow,” Reggie stepped forward to examine his side. “That’s a nasty bruise. How’d that happen?”

“A drunk got a lucky shot in before I threw him out of the club,” he lied. “I’ll put some ice on it when we sit down to eat.”

“Do you want some Advil?” she asked. “I think I have a bottle in my purse.”

“Nah, I’m good. I can barely feel it.” It was _far_ from the worst thing he’d dealt with. He followed Reggie into the kitchen and snagged an ice pack from his freezer so she wouldn’t fret. “Did you make any real food?”

She gestured with a dip of her head while she poured tea. “Yeah, your omelet is on the other side of the stove.”

“Thanks, babe,” he picked it up and then walked back around to sit next to her.

“So what time did you get in last night?” she asked. “Because you were already back when I got up at six-thirty this morning.”

He thought it over while he chewed. “I’m not sure – maybe four thirty?” He glanced at his watch. It was currently twelve, and he never slept more than seven hours so… “Make that five.”

“Yuck. I could never work nights the way you do. It’ll be bad enough when I have to get up for the baby.” Jason jerked his head up to look at her and Reggie froze comically, “Oh shoot! I meant to tell you right when you woke up!”

“You got the job?!”

“I got the job,” she confirmed, nearly breathless with joy. “This time tomorrow, I’ll be working for Bruce freakin’ Wayne.” That said, she kissed Jason on the cheek and flounced off to wash her plate.

_“…What?!”_

.

.

.

Two days after she was hired, Reggie arrived at Wayne manor on the back of her boyfriend’s bike.

“Thanks for the lift, Jase,” she said after dismounting and removing her helmet. “I really didn’t want to pay for an uber after spending so much for that u-haul and the storage unit.”

Jason stuffed his hands in his pockets and didn’t get up from his seat. “It’s no problem.”

The words were oddly stiff and she found herself frowning at his concealed face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he assured her. “Just getting sick. I might not be in touch for a few days while I get over it.”

“Jase! You should’ve told me,” she scolded. “I wouldn’t have made you drive all the way out here if I knew you weren’t feeling well.”

“It’s fine,” he waved away her concern. “It’s only just setting in. Besides,” he added. “I wouldn’t want to miss out on a chance to see you. You’re going to be really busy with this baby for the near future. Who knows when I’ll see you next,” he said with obvious bitterness.

“Jase…” Reggie was horrified. “You know I’ll make time for you, don’t you?”

He shrugged a little. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I _will,_ ” she insisted. “I promise.” Maybe the vehemence in her voice convinced him, or maybe he wanted a memory to hold on to, because the next thing she knew, Jason was off his bike and spinning her around so his back was to the manor. “Jase?” She squeaked.

He jerked his helmet off and smirked. “I’ll hold you to it.” That said, he dipped her and kissed her within an inch of her life. She was still gasping for air when he re-donned the helmet and swung back onto his bike. “Later, babe.”

His engine revved and he sped off, leaving her thoroughly confused and a teensy bit turned on.

“Miss?”

She startled, jumping and spinning around to find a familiar butler standing beside a suddenly open gate.

She felt her face and chest warm in embarrassment. Luckily, her olive complexion would conceal the flush. “When did you…?”

“The sensors noted movement at the gate but no one pressed the intercom so I came to investigate,” he said blandly. She winced. “Shall we head inside?” he asked, thankfully saying nothing about _why_ she’d failed to press the intercom.

“Right, of course.” She climbed into the back seat of the car and fought the urge to bury her face in her hands. The whole situation was made worse by the fact that she couldn’t tell if Pennyworth was laughing at her or scorning her. His poker face was impeccable!

“Your things arrived earlier this morning and were placed in the bedroom adjacent to the nursery,” he said when they entered the manor. “Little Helena is currently down for her nap, but when she wakes up your duties will officially start. In the meantime, feel free to unpack and look over the touchpad I placed on your desk. It has the details of Helena’s schedule up until this point as well as a calendar with things like meal times and events you need to be aware of.”

She nodded, feeling a little apprehensive. “Anything else?”

“Nothing at the moment,” he assured her. “Though please let me know if you find yourself in need of anything during your stay here.” They stopped outside the door to her new room.

“Thank you, Mr. Pennyworth,” she said emphatically. She still wasn’t sure if he liked her or not, but she hoped being polite would encourage the former.

“Please, call me Alfred,” he said kindly. “We’ll be working together after all.”

“Of course!” She smiled happily, feeling relieved. He wouldn’t offer his first name if he thought she was a horrible person. “And you can call me Regina – or Reggie – whichever you prefer.”

“Regina, then,” he said decisively.

He took his leave after that and Reggie entered the room, immediately looking over at the door that connected it to the nursery. It was slightly ajar, so she would have no trouble hearing it if Helena woke up crying.

She got to work immediately. Clothes were quickly hung up or put in drawers, shoes were put away in the closet, and the things she didn’t need but didn’t want to throw away – like office supplies – stayed in their containers and were shoved under the bed. She left knick-knacks and pictures for later, when she’d have more time to consider how to arrange them.

Once she was done with all that, she went to check on Helena. She stepped through the door and felt her eyes widen in surprise. The walls were a soft, pale yellow and the carpet was plush beneath her feet, but neither of those facts were cause for her surprise. The wide-eyed baby was. “Oh hello!”

She walked over and smiled at Helena. The blue-eyed girl was kicking her feet and staring at Reggie with a gummy grin.

“Look at you,” Reggie cooed. “All awake and calm – you’re spoiling me!” She picked the little girl up and checked her diaper. It was bone dry. “Ah! No wonder you’re calm.” She carried Helena back to her own room and sat down to examine the tablet Alfred left for her. “Let’s see what sort of meal schedule you’re on…”

Turns out, Helena was usually fed around two o’clock. It was currently ten til two, so Reggie stood up and made her way to the kitchens to fetch a bottle.

Alfred was there doing some prep work for dinner when they arrived. He showed her where everything was and gamely answered the questions she had regarding Helena’s behavior in the week and half she’d been there.

“So far she’s been remarkably calm,” he told her. “She cries when she needs to be changed and when she’s hungry, but very rarely outside of those times.”

“What about when she wakes up in the middle of the night?” she asked as she pressed a newly prepared bottle to Helena’s lips.

“Mostly, she babbles at increasing volumes until someone comes to pick her up.” He looked up and smiled at Reggie – the first real expression she’d seen from him. “Truthfully, I was quite grateful when Master Bruce told me he was hiring a nanny. Waking up in the middle of the night to deal with a baby in addition to my usual duties was exhausting.”

She grimaced sympathetically. “It really is a full-time job.”

“And I’m sure you’ll do quite well at it,” he told her.

“Oh I hope so.” Reggie finished feeding Helena and left Alfred to his meal prepping, heading back upstairs for “play time.” She was going to stick to the schedule the little girl was already on and make changes gradually. Routine was key with keeping babies calm and on track.

The rest of the afternoon passed calmly, with minimal fussiness from her charge. Reggie hoped it was an indication for how the rest of the year would go, but she didn’t want to set her hopes too high. Luckily (or unluckily), dinner that evening ended up being eye-opening when it came to what sort of life she could expect.

“So this is the new help?” drawled a young voice when she passed by the dining room.

“Damian!” At least three voices rose to scold him.

Reggie paused in the doorway, but didn’t know what to say, especially when she was confronted with so many strangers. “Ignore him,” a dark-haired teenager recommended. “He hasn’t been socialized.”

“Drake,” the boy in question growled. “I’ll-”

“Ahem.” Bruce Wayne’s unsubtle clearing of the throat cowed the boys into silence. “Regina, I’d like you to meet the rest of my family.” He gestured to the man next to him. “This is Dick Grayson, my oldest son. He lives in Bludhaven most of the time, but every so often he comes back to mooch off my hospitality.”

“Hey,” the man protested half-heartedly. “I’d like to see you go weeks without Alfred’s cooking!” He turned bright blue eyes on her. “It’s nice to meet you Regina.”

“Nice to meet you too,” she replied, hiking a sleepy Helena higher on her shoulder.

“And this is Tim Drake, my next oldest.” He gestured to the teenager, who gave an awkward wave. “Next to him is Damian, my youngest.”

They exchanged generic ‘nice-to-meet-you’s,’ though it was grudging in Damian’s case, and then Reggie was encouraged to sit down.

“In a moment,” she said awkwardly. “I’ve just got to feed Helena and then put her down for the night.” That said, she retreated as quickly as she could without being rude.

Entering the kitchen was a relief. “Hello, Alfred.” The butler was putting the finishing touches on dinner and already had a bottle warmed up and waiting. She fed her charge quickly, then got her situated upstairs. Helena went down with no trouble, so Reggie made it back in time to help the elderly butler transfer the steaming dishes out to the others.

Once everything was neatly arranged, she and Alfred took their seats.

“So Regina,” Bruce said after everyone had their first bite of food. “How has your first day been?”

She deliberately set her fork down, then made eye contact and smiled. “It’s been great so far. Helena has been very mellow and, if what I hear from Alfred is true, it looks like that’s a natural state of being for her.”

“Is that unusual?” Bruce asked curiously.

“Not at all!” Reggie said. “According to my mother I was the same way. Some babies, if their basic needs are met, simply don’t have the temperament for the long bouts of crying other children do.” She paused. “Of course, teething will probably be a different ballgame altogether, mellow temperament or not.”

“That won’t happen soon, will it?” Tim asked worriedly. “If so, I’d like my room to be moved to the other side of the manor.”

“Well, it _could_ happen soon,” Reggie admitted. She’d heard of cases where it started at three or four months. “But mostly I don’t think you’ll have to worry about it until she reaches six months.”

He slumped in exaggerated relief, releasing an emphatic, “Good.”

Reggie smiled. At least _one_ member of the household was going to be friendly. The jury was still out on the others. She gave the teenager a quick smile and took another bite of the filet in front of her. “This is fantastic,” she told Alfred, eager to avoid awkward silence. “I’m not usually a fan of red meat, but this is something I could get used to.”

Rather than look pleased at the compliment, Alfred frowned. “You’ll have to let me know which foods you prefer so I can plan accordingly.”

“Oh, I’m not usually very picky…” she trailed off at his unimpressed look. “But I’ll let you know what I like best.” This seemed to satisfy him, because he returned to his own meal.

The oldest son, Dick, smiled in commiseration. “Alfred is a force of nature, isn’t he?” he asked. He ignored the man’s raised brow. “Why, I remember when I first came to live here – I ended up eating nothing but my favorites for months before the novelty of my arrival finally wore off.”

Alfred huffed at this. “A growing boy can’t sustain himself on only two food groups.”

Dick ignored him. “Don’t worry, his insistence on being prim and professional never lasts long. He’ll be making sarcastic quips at you in no time.”

Reggie smiled but didn’t comment. She had no intention of making an enemy out of the only other member of staff. She redirected the conversation. “So you live in Bludhaven? Is the underground music scene as great as they say?”

“Oh yeah,” he nodded. “The best. Though I do have to make sure to change out of uniform before I go to any clubs. Cops don’t have the best reputation among the masses.”

Reggie blinked in surprise. The fact that he was a cop was news to her. She’d expected Bruce Wayne’s oldest ward to work at his father’s company, if he worked at all. She discarded the notion and regathered her wits. “So, not too different from Gotham then?”

He laughed. “Yeah, that’s exactly right.”


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

Reggie woke up bright and early the next morning. Part of it had to do with the unusually light sleep that came with staying somewhere new and unfamiliar, but the rest had to do with the predawn light shining through the large bay windows across from the foot of the bed.

She hadn’t bothered to draw the curtains closed the night before, so a brilliant array of pale pink, orange, and yellow danced over the bedspread. It was lovely.

Sighing wistfully, because she already knew it was something she’d so rarely get to experience (Gotham was _dreary_ , weather-wise), Reggie threw back the covers and stood to stretch. Her shoulders and neck cracked pleasantly as she rolled them around, leaving her loose and limber for the day.

“Bwah!”

And so it begins… “Coming!” Reggie called. It was important to introduce the basics of conversation early, even if Helena didn’t yet have the vocabulary for it.

Still in her pajamas, she moved through the open door to her charge. “Hello, sweet girl. How are you feeling this fine morning?” Helena flailed her little arms and smacked her lips. “That good, huh? Me too. Something about sunshine really gets me in the mood to be up and about.” Cue excited babbling. “Oh, we’ll do all sorts of fun things. Don’t you worry, Helena – I’ve got a lot planned for today…”

Reggie let the last word trail off. Halfway through their mock conversation, she’d picked Helena up and spun in a slow circle, ending up face to face with Bruce.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. Is it already seven? I didn’t bother to check-”

“It’s fine, I’m early,” he was quick to cut her off. “I thought I’d give you a little extra time this morning, let you ease into things and fully unpack.”

Reggie blinked a few times as she processed this, still feeling caught off guard. “Oh, well, that’s kind of you – thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Bruce said, attention already focused on his daughter. He walked over and gently took her from Reggie’s arms. “Go on, I may be somewhat new, but I’ve got this.”

“Right.” Suddenly remembering the fact that she was in her pajamas, she backed out of the room, making sure to close the connecting door. She flopped into a cushy armchair and buried her face in her hands. _I hope not every interaction will be like that._ Though she hadn’t done anything _wrong,_ something about his cool demeanor had made her feel very young and very foolish.

She’d worked jobs in the past where she and the parents just didn’t ‘click.’ It always made her antsy, like she couldn’t wait for summer to end. This job was different. Now that she was out of school, there was no end date to look forward to. She would stay on so long as she and Bruce Wayne were satisfied with the situation.

_‘Brriinng!’_

A shrill ring startled her from her thoughts and had her jerking out of her seat. It took a bit of scrambling to find her phone, seeing as it had fallen between the mattress and the headboard overnight, but she managed to get to it before it went to voicemail.

“Hello?” she said breathlessly, not bothering to check caller ID.

“Hey – it’s me.”

“Jason?” She stumbled off the bed and into the bathroom. Her new boss was just next door and she didn’t want him overhearing a private conversation. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?”

“Because you’re calling me before seven in the morning.” The ‘duh’ went without saying. “I don’t think I’ve spoken to you between the hours of five and eight in the entire time I’ve known you!” It was an exaggeration, but only just.

He laughed sheepishly. “I just wanted to wish you a good morning on your first full day of work.”

Immediately, she felt guilty for her incredulity. “Oh, Jase. _Thank you._ That’s really sweet of you.” He could be incredibly thoughtful when she least expected it. “I hope you’re not too tired?”

“Nah. I haven’t gone to bed yet.” The instinct to scold him was strong, but she refrained. She wasn’t his mother. However much she worried about how little he slept, it was _his_ choice. “Anyway,” he swiftly moved on, fully aware of her opinion of his sleeping habits. “How did yesterday go?”

“It was okay,” she said carefully. “Helena is a sweetheart and the room they gave me is beautiful…”

Jason was quick to jump on her hesitation. “I hear a ‘but’ coming – what’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong,” she assured him, leaning against the bathroom door. “It’s just going to be a bit awkward until I get to know everyone.” She sighed through her nose. “Honestly, the first few days are always the worst part of the job.

“But enough about me,” she said firmly, shifting gears. “How was your night? Did you miss me terribly?”

She could practically hear his grin as he said, “Miss you? Hardly! I’m enjoying the peace and quiet.”

“You’ll miss me when you go to sleep.” Though they didn’t live together, she and Jason had spent most nights in the same bed for the last three months.

“No way! I’m looking forward to having the whole bed to myself. No restless legs, no cold toes…”

“Hey! You know I have poor circulation.” She had no excuse for the restless legs. Most nights, Jason ended up half on top of her just to get her to stop _moving._

“I-” A crack echoed through the connection, interrupting whatever Jason was about to say in response. “Shit. I dropped something. Gotta go.”

He hung up before she could say goodbye.

Shrugging and hoping he hadn’t broken anything important, she set her phone down and decided on a hot shower. According to the schedule she’d been given, Bruce had Helena from seven until nine o’clock on weekdays. Considering it was only just six-thirty and he'd already taken over, she had plenty of time to get ready for the day.

.

.

.

Jason coldcocked the mobster who’d interrupted his call.

“Damn it, Ronnie.” He dragged the chair upright and started patting the man’s cheeks to rouse him. “What the hell did you think that was going to accomplish?” The dumbass had only succeeded in tipping his chair and drawing Jason’s ire.

He was going to regret the second more than the first.

It took a minute, but soon enough Ronnie was blinking blearily. _Shit,_ he hoped he hadn’t given him a concussion. This was going to be many times more annoying if the idiot couldn’t think straight.

Ronnie flinched violently when Jason pulled the duct tape from his mouth. “-wha?”

“Welcome back.” Jason walked away to grab a fold-up chair from the corner. He dragged it over and sat backwards facing the goon. “Now, tell me – what were you trying to do? I know you’re not very sharp, but even you have to realize that you’re in a locked room.”

The man mumbled something.

Jason reached for his throat. “Wanna try that again?”

The way Ronnie went white would have been downright insulting if it weren’t the exact reaction he was going for.

“…I was trying to get the attention of whoever you were on the phone with.”

“Oh?” Jason’s heart started to race, but he made sure it didn’t show in his tone or body language. He’d only made the call because he thought Ronnie was still unconscious, but even if that wasn’t the case, Jason had been speaking quietly and hadn’t said her name. Reggie was safe. “And why do you think they’d care? For all you know I was speaking with the Italians.”

Ronnie pressed his lips together and refused to answer. Jason tightened his grip and growled menacingly through his voice modulator.

“Okay! Okay!” He caved, all traces of obstinacy gone. “You weren’t tense.”

_“What?”_

“You know, your shoulders and shit.” At Jason’s silence he went on, “I’ve known a lot of tough guys over the years, and the only thing that gets them to relax like that is their family.”

“You think I have a family?” Hah! The closest thing he had to a family consisted of a group of people that would sooner lock him up than talk to him.

“Sure,” Ronnie shrugged as best he could under his restraints. “You’re human, aren’t ya? Whether it’s a girl or a kid, I wouldn’t be surprised if you had someone outside the underworld. Otherwise why wear a mask?”

 _Oh._ That kind of family. He often forgot that the criminals he interacted with thought he was a grown man and not a nineteen-year-old.

Ronnie kept talking. “You’ve got so many dangerous enemies that anyone close to you would have to be either bulletproof or completely removed from this life. And I haven't heard about any metas in your entourage.”

“Shut up, Ronnie.”

The mobster squints at him. “Girl, I think.”

This time, Jason knocks him out on purpose. If Ronnie didn’t have a concussion before, he certainly does now.

.

.

.

“That’s it sweetie! You did it! You’re sitting up!” Reggie clapped and made silly faces at her charge as the baby wobbled in place on her lap. “Look at you – holding your head up all by yourself!”

Helena, excitable little thing that she was, responded with a high-pitched stream of babble and flailing arms. The jerky movements upset her already precarious balance and she made an adorable ‘o’ with her mouth as she tipped backwards.

“Oopsie daisy!” Reggie caught Helena before she could tip all the way off her lap and onto the rug. It was a short fall with a soft landing, but sometimes the shock of a sudden change in position was enough to incite tears.

Reggie was all for avoiding emotional upset before nap time.

“Okay, sweetie. You’ve got a full belly, a fresh diaper, and you’ve had plenty of play time – let’s get you ready to sleep.” Helena stared back at her with bright eyes. “Oh I see how it is. You wanna pretend you’re not tired.” Her charge giggled and stuck a hand in her mouth to suck on. “Oh no, you’re not going to con me into staying up. I’m immune to your tricks!” Reggie waited for the responding baby-babble to die down before cradling her to her chest. “Very interesting, Helena. But it won’t deter me. It’s nap time and there’s nothing you can say to change my mind.”

“You do realize you sound like a lunatic – right?”

Damian Wayne’s lightly accented voice sounded loud and clear from the doorway. When Reggie turned to face him, his derision was as plain on his face as it had been in his tone. It should have been insulting, but instead she had to fight the urge to smile. She’d always had a soft spot for sullen, tetchy children.

“I suppose I seem a bit silly,” she conceded. “But really, there’s a method to my madness.”

The preteen stared at her with a single brow raised. “And what, pray tell, would that method be?”

“Well, I use a bright, exaggerated sort of intonation because studies have linked it to increased attention in infants and small children.” She was pleased to notice he looked taken aback by her response. “Of course, it doesn’t hurt that I smile and make a lot of eye contact either. Those factors are proven to have a positive effect on a child’s social development.

“And the way I pretend she’s talking back to me? That’s helpful too.” She stepped past Damian and into the hall. “Just because she’s preverbal doesn’t mean I can’t get her started on the basics of conversation and social interaction.”

“…I see,” he said slowly. “You are less useless than I thought. Carry on.”

That said, he turned and left, heading down the hall in the opposite direction.

“You know,” Reggie mused aloud, once he’d disappeared around the corner. “It’s a bit sad.” She was speaking partly to herself and partly to Helena. “But I’m honestly pleased to have that eleven-year-old’s approval.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter this time!

CHAPTER 5

Once Helena was down for her second nap of the day, Reggie ventured downstairs to get something to eat. She made it all the way to the kitchen doors before the sound of laughter and conversation stopped her in her tracks.

The sudden onset of anxiety was unwelcome.

She really, really hated the first few days of new jobs. The uncertainty of what was expected of her made her want to bite her nails – a habit she’d broken long before she hit double digits.

Last night, she’d had an explicit invitation to join them for dinner. Today, things were less clear-cut. Sure, she knew that room and board were included, but she wasn’t sure to what extent. Was she supposed to join them for meals? Just dinners? Only on special occasions?

She’d originally assumed that she was going to have access to the kitchen so she could fend for herself, but she didn’t want to act on that assumption until she knew for sure. Alfred’s request at dinner the night before implied he’d be cooking at least _some_ of her meals.

Oh god, what if he got mad because she took something reserved for a specific dish or one of the family members?

She started to back away, soured by the very idea. Unfortunately, just before she made it around the corner, her stomach grumbled, halting her slow retreat. _Crap_. She’d already skipped breakfast that morning because she hadn’t wanted to deal with this exact internal debate so early in the morning, but it was now almost one o’clock and she was _hungry_.

 _‘You’re overthinking this,’_ a voice that sounded uncomfortably like Jason’s echoed in her mind. ‘ _Just_ ask. _No one expects you to know these things automatically.’_

 _Easy for you to say,_ she thought mulishly. _You’ve probably never felt insecure a day in your life._ It was blatantly untrue and she knew it. He was just so good at faking that nobody noticed.

Her hand twitched towards her pocket. Usually, this would be the point where she called Jason so she could make fun of herself and he could tell her how ridiculous she was being. _But I don’t want to wake him if he’s sleeping…_

She sighed and left her phone where it was.

 _Here goes nothing._ She stepped into the kitchen and tried not to wince at the way that Tim and Alfred abruptly cut themselves off. “Sorry to bother you,” she said hastily. “I just came down to fix something light to eat.” She turned to Alfred, trying to channel her boyfriend’s casual confidence. “Would you mind showing me what all I have access to?”

The butler frowned at her. “Do you not like lentil soup?”

“Oh I do,” she said, backtracking immediately. “I just thought I’d be cooking for myself…” she trailed off. It sounded stupid now that she’d said it aloud.

It was the teenager, Tim, who came to her rescue. “Come on,” he said. “Sit down. There’s plenty to go around.” He got up and grabbed a bowl, quickly ladling a too large amount inside. “Trust me, Alfred cooks like he’s feeding an army. The times you’ll need to fix anything yourself will be few and far between.”

“But I don’t want to intrude,” she said carefully. “It’s got to be tough having a stranger invade your lives. I don’t want to make it any worse than it has to be.”

“Don’t worry about that!” Tim assured her. “The whole point is that you won’t be a stranger for long.”

She smiled weakly at him. It was kind of him to say, but he was just a kid. Bruce’s opinion was the one that really mattered.

“What are _you_ doing in here?” For the second time that day, Reggie was surprised to find Damian in the doorway. The kid was _quiet._ Unfortunately, this time he was less endearing. She could take vitriol one-on-one, but not with an audience. It didn’t help that his words seemed to specifically target her insecurities.

Alfred sighed. “I assure you, Damian, this is Tim’s home too. He has every right to eat in here.”

_Wait – what?_

Belatedly she noticed that the preteen’s glare was not focused on her, but rather past her. “I take it you two don’t get along?” she asked.

They both snorted. Tim fixed her with a wry look, “That’s putting it mildly.”

“-Drake is an unwelcome interloper,” Damian announced loudly, speaking over his brother. “At least you provide a valuable service. _He_ is simply a drain on our resources.”

“Woah – hold up.” Tim was staring at his brother with confusion. “What happened to ‘an outsider is even worse than Drake’?”

The boy sniffed. “I have come to the conclusion that Locke’s presence is a necessary evil. _My_ sister will benefit from her teachings. You, on the other hand…” He scrunched his nose. “Well, you’re not good for anything, are you?”

Alfred’s scandalized “Damian!” went ignored by both boys.

“ _Your_ sister.” Tim rolled his eyes. “What, she’s not a threat to your inheritance like the rest of us?”

“Of course not. Helena will be my heir until I have children of my own.”

“That’s really fu-”

Reggie was relieved when the baby-monitor clipped to her hip crackled to life and the two boys cut themselves off. “Excuse me,” she said. “I should probably go check on her.”

She quickly left the kitchen, her stomach still protesting the lack of food.

…At least she knew about mealtimes now.

.

.

.

Dinner that night was a slightly less awkward affair than her first night in the manor.

Alfred once more took the end seat across from Bruce, with Tim to his right and Damian to Bruce’s. Reggie took the seat opposite Tim – beside Alfred again.

Their plates were piled high with fettuccini alfredo and pleasantly crispy bread. It was exactly the kind of carb-heavy meal she craved after a day of fasting. She happily focused on her food while the others talked about their days.

“So,” Tim leaned over his pasta and stared at her attentively. It was the look of someone about to ask a burning question. “What did you go to school for?”

She breathed a discrete sigh of relief. She could talk about academia all day long. “Economics, with a minor in Cognitive Science. Why do you ask?”

“I was just curious. I just finished my junior year so I’ve been thinking about colleges. You went to Gotham U – right?”

“Yeah, I transferred right after my first year at the University of Virginia.” She opened her mouth to ask him about his own college plans, but he beat her to the punch.

“What made you decide to transfer?”

She shrugged and answered honestly. “I didn’t like my roommate, my major, or my general experience. After two semesters, I felt change was in order.” A grin stole over her face. “As much as my parents worry about the crime, I’m really glad I moved up here.” City life was definitely better. Charlottesville had been _slow_ compared to her childhood in D.C. “But enough about me! Have you thought about which schools you’ll be applying to?”

His eyes darted to Bruce and back to her so fast she almost thought she’d imagined it. “Yeah. I think I’ll either stay close or try for a school in southern California. I’m not sure yet.”

Those were rather disparate choices. “What’s in California?”

He waved airily. “Oh, just some friends of mine.”

She nodded, recognizing an evasion when she heard one. “Do you know what sort of program you’re interested in?”

“Business.” The answer came with no hesitation whatsoever, accompanied by a pointed look in his brother’s direction.

“Tch.” Damian had remained silent so far, but the glare he was directing Tim’s way was positively murderous.

Reggie eyed the boys warily. “That’s great,” she told Tim, eager to cut the tension. “I had no idea what I wanted to study at your age.”

“Yeah, well I’m already heavily involved in Wayne Enterprises’ tech division, so it’s only natural.” He smirked. “My goal is to take over for Lucius Fox when he retires.”

Bruce and Alfred adopted matching expressions. It was the same sort of look Reggie’s mother wore when she was “praying for patience.”

“Tim, don’t provoke-”

“How _dare_ you?!” Silverware clattered as Damian stood from his chair and hissed, “Wayne Enterprises is my birthright!”

“Please, you’d run it into the ground.” Tim was still seated, looking smug. “I-”

 _“Tim.”_ Damn, Bruce Wayne could sound commanding when he wanted to. Though he was looking at Tim, Damian immediately sat back down. “Thank you.” Seemingly unfazed, Bruce went back to his dinner – leaving the rest of them in awkward silence.

_Never mind, this is worse than last night._


	6. Chapter 6

 

CHAPTER 6

From the edge of a ramshackle apartment building just south of Park Row, Jason glared down at the street below. His gaze was fixed on a nervous-looking businessman trying to haggle with a dominatrix, but his mind was miles away.  _'I should've just set her up with a job. Then I wouldn't be in this mess.'_

The only reason he hadn't was because it didn't quite fit with the identity he'd set up. Jason Walker, a bouncer with a GED and no living family, had no business with the connections and resources of a murderous vigilante. It was too suspicious. 

_'But won't it be more suspicious when she notices the eerie resemblance between Jason Walker and the late Jason Todd?'_

He winced at the very thought. Reggie was naive, but she wasn't stupid. There was no evading it. Not unless he managed to get her out of the mansion before she found something incriminating.

"Hood!" 

Jason felt his expression pull into something decidedly stormy when the Replacem- _Drake's_ modulated voice sounded from behind him. The last thing he needed right now was an argument with one of the bats. "What?"

"There's some strange activity in the industrial district - I could use an extra set of eyes."

"And you chose me, why?" But Jason was already moving away from his vantage point on the edge. The fact that he'd been sighted would be enough to keep the working girls safe tonight. Besides, in all but the most extreme circumstances, they could take care of themselves. 

"...I thought you quit smoking."

"Huh?" Jason looked down at the cigarette he'd just ground beneath his boot. He opened his mouth to defend himself, then remembered who he was talking to. "Apparently not," he said flatly. "You gonna answer my question?"

Drake stared at him for a moment, not saying anything - the little shit took the investigative part of their job way too seriously - but eventually he shrugged. "B and Robin are dealing with some break-ins."

"What about Oracle? She can give you a lot more than an extra set of eyes."

"Sionis hired a meta to track down and destroy all the cameras and bugs she set up in his territory. We can't put them out fast enough to keep up. Until the meta is taken care of, she's stuck with traffic cameras."

"Alright, fine." Jason cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders, gearing up for a rooftop dash across the city. He may be in peak physical condition, but that didn't mean he wasn't prone to pulled muscles when he forgot to stretch. "Lead the way, Ruby Tuesday."

Unlike the first few times he'd used the nickname, Drake didn't react beyond a beleagured sigh. Jason had to fight the urge to smile until he could lower his helmet. It was nice to know that, even in the midst of a crisis, goading Timothy Drake could still lighten his mood.

.

.

.

Reggie woke up to muffled crying.

Her first instinct was to reach for the remote so she could turn off her tv, but when her sleepy groping proved fuitless she remembered where she was. "Oh shit." She kicked off her blankets and stumbled out of bed, bruising her hip against the corner of her nightstand in the process. " _Ow._ " The pain jolted her fully into wakefulness even as her eyes watered. 

Tempted to launch into a litany of curses that would make Jason proud, she bit her tongue instead.  _Come on, Reg,_ she scolded herself.  _Suck it up. It's just a_ _bruise._ She pressed her hand to her side and shuffled next door.

What she found was both heartbreaking and worrying enough to make her forget all about the pain in her hip. "...Oh sweetie."

Little Helena had been sick all over herself and her crib. "Come on, I'll get you cleaned up." Breathing shallowly through her mouth so she wouldn't sympathy vomit, Reggie quickly went about bathing and changing her. The entire time Helena kept up her pitiful crying and shivering, snot dripping steadily.

When she was once more dressed and cradled in Reggie's arms, the baby fell into a fitful sleep. "Poor thing." Worried, and not really sure about the best course of action, Reggie moved to her own room and set the baby down in the middle of her bed so she could make a phone call.

"Gotham Telehealth Hotline - Tyrone speaking. What's your name and the nature of your problem?"

"My name's Regina and I've got a three month old girl who's vomited at least once and seems to be running a fever," Reggie said all this and a rush and had to consciously remind herself to slow down for the next bit. "Should I take her to hospital or wait and see if symptoms worsen?" 

The guy on the other end didn't miss a beat. "Any pre-existing conditions?"

"None that I'm aware of."

"Have you taken her temperature?"

"Not yet."

"Okay, do you have a thermometer on hand?"

Reggie glanced around helplessly. "Um, probably? I'm not exactly sure  _where_ though."

"Relax," Tyrone advised. "Take a few minutes to search for it, but if you don't find it, I'd recommend driving to the nearest hospital. Just to be on the safe side."

"Right. One moment please." Picking up Helena once more and wedging her cell between her ear and her shoulder, Reggie entered the nursery and started her search. Luckily, it didn't take long. "Found it!" Tyrone waited patiently as she took Helena's temperature. "It's 99.5."

There's a short pause, then, "That's not too bad. How's she doing otherwise? Describe her symptoms to me."

Reggie listed what she'd noticed so far. 

"Alright then, I'd recommend monitoring her condition closely for the next few hours. You should try to get some fluids into her and keep checking her temperature. If anything worsens, take her to the hospital. If nothing else happens or things improve, you can wait until morning and head to your pediatrician."

"Right, okay. Thank you so much!"

"You're welcome."

She hung up the phone and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Just having a solid plan in place was enough to ease her anxiety. "Come on sweetie." She brushed back wispy hair and adopted a cheery voice. "Let's get you a bottle. We've gotta replace all that icky formula you threw up." Tired and miserable, Helena just smooshed her snotty face farther into Reggie's shoulder.

"...Gross."

.

.

.

Things did not get better.

Helena refused to drink her bottle and started crying again less than twenty minutes after the phone call. "Shh, it's okay." She used her shirt to wipe away some excess snot and winced when it only served to make the cries louder. "I know it's uncomfortable, baby, but it won't last forever. You'll get better soon."

As if to contradict this, Helena scrunched up her face and vomited all over the two of them.

"Okay, that's it, we're going to the hospital."

Reggie stripped her charge down and used baby wipes and a damp wash cloth to clean her up. Then, when Helena was suitably clean, she went into her bedroom and changed her own shirt. 

Since she didn't have a car, let alone a car seat, Reggie resigned herself to waking up one of the others.  _But which one...?_ Both Bruce and Alfred had given her their cell phone numbers, but she wasn't sure which one would be appropriate in this instance. Alfred seemed to do enough work throughout the day that he might be annoyed to be interrupted at night as well, but Bruce was in charge of Wayne Industries. He had an important job and the whole reason she'd been hired was so he didn't have to look after a baby full-time.

 _Screw it. If Alfred gets upset I'll just have to grovel._ She chose his number and pressed the phone to her ear. 

Surprisingly, he answered on the second ring. "Alfred Pennyworth speaking."

"I'm so sorry to bother you, but do you think you could drive Helena and I to the nearest hospital? She's sick and I'm worried that it's serious."

"Oh dear," the quiet exclamation was said with a very understated sort of dismay, though Reggie didn't think that was an indication that he didn't care. Rather, it was confirmation that he was an understated sort of man. "I'll meet you by the garage."

"Thanks, Alfred."

.

. 

.

Jason was just about to make the last jump to their vantage point when Drake froze in place. "What's wrong?"

"...It's Agent A. He's disconnected the comms."

"Shit." Of all of them, Alfred was probably the most likely to follow protocol. "Do you think the cave's been compromised?"

Drake's face was pale beneath his mask. "Only one way to find out."

As one, they turned to the west.

 


End file.
